Though she’s recorded steadily since the late 80s, Texas singer-songwriter Kimmie Rhodes hasn’t enjoyed either the commercial or critical cachet of many of the other alt-country and Americana acts. Both Wynonna and Trisha Yearwood have recorded her songs, but she hasn’t been a steady go-to songwriter like, say, Gretchen Peters or Kim Richey. That’s largely the result of how unassuming Rhodes’ work routinely is: Her songs are never less than well-constructed and are always observed in plainspoken but effective lines, while her singing hinges on her gentle, wispy voice.

Cowgirl Boudoir is at least intermittently a departure for Rhodes, then, because it pushes her aesthetic beyond her comfortable Texas country style. Though the album rarely lives up to the intrigue promised by its title, there’s an assertive POV on songs like “Lover Killing Time” and “Don’t Leave Me Like This” and a lived-in warmth and sensuality in Rhodes’ deliveries of “None of Us Are Innocent” and “Having You Around,” a duet with Johnny Goudie. The production on “I Am Falling” and “The Sky Fell Down” even recalls the scores of spaghetti Westerns, bringing a hint of mystery and depth to Rhodes’ material.

The album could stand a few more flourishes of that sort. The middle third drags through a series of pleasant but slight ballads that simply lack the grit, in either their lyrics or Rhodes’ performances, to leave much of an impression at all. But when Rhodes is less timid and pushes beyond what’s simple and straightforward, Cowgirl Boudoir rates as perhaps her strongest, most diverse album.

Recommended Tracks: “Having You Around,” “None of Us Are Innocent,” “I Am Falling”

Nostalgia works a lot better when the one indulging in it has put some time and distance between them and the memories.

“Talladega” celebrates the memories of a youthful road trip, but does so with tinges of melancholy. It doesn’t glorify or idealize the past, but there’s a sense of somberness that acknowledges that your youth is not something you can simply return to.

Whether you actually want to or not isn’t really the point. You can be happier now than you were back then, and still long just a little bit for a time in your time where your future was the road ahead and you got your first shot behind the wheel.

Church captures those feelings perfectly, with all the inherent contradictions. This is one of his best singles to date.

How many times can the title be repeated in a song? I thought Little Texas had answered that question definitely with “My Love”, but Chase Bryant is giving them a run for their money.

The song is your standard nostalgia trip, romanticizing first love and wishing you could “take it on back” to those days. There’s a banjo and there’s an autotune effect, which clash just as much as the sentimental lyric and aggressive vocal performance.

But more than anything, the song’s shortcoming is that it’s just too long, and the hook isn’t strong enough to warrant being featured so heavily.

Dierks Bentley’s at the top of his game right now. “Say You Do” demonstrates why.

It’s subtle, it’s smart, and it’s self-aware. It’s the type of record that only works with some real life experience to back it up.

Bentley’s so understated that he’s terribly underrated. He’s not a showy vocalist, but the complicated emotions woven into this lyric require a skilled singer to deliver it. In lesser, simpler hands, it could err on the side of either cynicism or sap. Bentley is able to thread the needle, earning empathy while fully rejecting pity.

He’s really the current generation’s Don Williams, which is about a high a compliment as I’ve paid any artist this year.

It’s hard not to be impressed by Randy Houser’s resilience. His ability to build an audience with a reasonably country sound, all while switching from the majors to an independent label, is pretty amazing.

So there’s a ring of truth to his declaration of being “Like a Cowboy”, always getting back in the saddle. And, of course he sings the heck out of it, because he’s still got a powerful voice full of character and authentic twang.

I’d have liked it better if the music behind him didn’t think it was backing Kid Rock’s “Cowboy”, but given what the dominant sounds are at radio today, it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.

Tim McGraw should be applauded for finally meeting the potential that many of us had hoped for after he left the oppressive Curb Records. His most recent album, particularly his last couple singles, have dialed back the loudness, embraced a more traditional and organic sound, reconnected him with the warm vocals with which he had all but lost, and the last two singles have even presented more thoughtful lyrics than he’d been singing in the last few years.

“Diamond Rings and Old Barstools”, with standout background vocals by his cousin, Catherine Dunn, is the third single in a row with a production that is worthy to be called country music. Moreover, McGraw’s vocals are strong, sincere and devoid of obvious studio effects.

The thing that is missing from this winning combination, however, is a clear understanding of the metaphors that this song is trying to convey. It is apparent that the lyrics are stating that diamond rings and barstools don’t mix, much like the relationship in question, but the metaphor is clunky and requires a lot of guessing and second guessing in order to extrapolate the intended comparisons. What it seems to come down to is that one of these things is not like the other, but how exactly it’s not like the other is unclear.

Grade: B

]]>10Kevin John Coynehttp://www.countryuniverse.nethttp://www.countryuniverse.net/?p=282782015-03-01T15:03:49Z2015-03-01T15:03:49Z

Cole Swindell makes the case to the lady that burned him that there are a ton of good reasons he might be out drinking tonight. She’s not one of them.

Doth he protest a bit too much? Possibly.

It would actually be a better record if he made that more clear in his vocal delivery. He’s not quite heartbroken, but not quite arrogantly confident, either. I’m not entirely sure what he’s really feeling.

It would be a more successful record if there was a tension, even a contradiction, between what he sings and what he truly feels.

Any time a new country single invites comparisons to “Life Turned Her That Way”, you know you’re in for something good.

“She Don’t Love You” is a simple country song about a woman who has been hurt too many times, and Eric Paslay sings the fire out of it. You can actually hear him do that, as he’s backed by little more than an acoustic guitar through a good part of the record.

Sure, you can see the ending coming from a mile away. Spoiler alert: the narrator is the one who broke her heart. But surprise endings only work the first time you listen to it. What keeps you coming back for more is sincerity, authenticity, and sometimes, some good old-fashioned heartbreak.

I’m always going to prefer a drinking anthem written for people who actually work for a living. “Drinking Class” is all about going out on Friday night to let off steam after a long work week.

I can see this being a great bar sing along, given its solidarity with all that is blue collar. For me, it’s another one of those songs that has an interesting beginning but dissolves into a bland chorus. The energy that it needs to take off never shows up.

Brice is one of our better singers and I appreciate his commitment to releasing music for and about adults. I just wish this particular record was better.